


East of the Sun

by astraplain



Category: Gorgeous Carat
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-18 11:11:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10615701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraplain/pseuds/astraplain
Summary: A mysterious stranger pays Helene Rochefort's debts in exchange for her only son, but that's just the beginning of the story. A retelling of the fairy tale "East of the Sun, West of the Moon"





	1. Chapter 1

A signet ring and a pocket watch.

Helene Rochefort set the two items down on the kitchen table, the last reminders of her beloved husband. Beside these precious items was a cup of weak tea, long grown cold, and a small pile of money. 

"There's nothing left to sell," she spoke as if explaining matters to her dear Florent. "Not without emptying the living rooms of their furniture." Any salable bric-a-brac was long gone along with most of her jewelry, the artwork and the furnishings from the private areas. When necessary she'd replaced valuable items with inexpensive copies. Other than her wedding ring, all of her remaining jewels were paste.

"I don't know what to do about the boy," she confessed, and only then did she waver. It was no secret that the facade she'd fought so hard to maintain was failing, but... Florent's only child, now a fine young man, growing thin and pale because of her weakness. "He's out all day and insists I not save him anything for dinner." True, the contents of the cupboard were sparse, but Jacqueline worked miracles with potatoes and whatever she could grow in the garden. "I can't remember the last time he ate at home."

In fact, he'd brought her a handful of small purple berries this evening, insisting that they were perfectly safe to eat. Overcome with shame, Helene couldn't bring herself to take them. She'd offered him tea instead, and accepted his refusal without protest. He'd excused himself soon after, taking the berries with him. 

"Florent," she whispered brokenly picking up the ring and clutching it to her breast, "What am I to do?"

There was a knock at the kitchen door, hard and insistent. Startled, Helene put the pocket watch ring into her pocket before picking up a heavy pan. Unlatching the door, she opened it just a crack and was greeted by a roughly-dressed man whose face was shadowed by a misshapen hat.

"What do you want? We've nothing for beggars."

"I'm no beggar, madame. I carry a message from my master, the Count. I knocked at the front door but no one answered." The man held out a silver envelope with a golden seal. "I'm to wait for your answer if you please."

"Stay there," Helene instructed, closing the door in his face before moving to the counter and using a handy knife to break the seal. Inside was a diamond pin and a short letter. She read the contents twice, shock giving way to anger.

"Who is your master," she demanded, wrenching open the door to confront the messenger. "What does he want with my son?"

"I'm sorry, madame. I know nothing of the contents of the letter, I was just told to deliver it. My master is a rich man but he rarely ventures off his estate. Perhaps he wants your son for a companion?"

"He's so lonely he willing to buy friendship?" Helene scoffed, ready to hand the letter back to the man with a firm refusal. Still, the offer was generous. With that kind of money she could pay all her outstanding debts and restore the Rochefort properties. Surely the man wouldn't intend to keep Florian forever. A few years as a companion and he'd return to take his place in the family and in society... Yes, she could do this for her son and for the memory of her dear Florent.

"You may tell your master, we accept his terms. Return tomorrow night and Florian will be ready." Helene kept her regal bearing intact until the man thanked her and left. It was only when the door was closed and locked that she collapsed, hiding her face in her hands as she wept.

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	2. Chapter 2

"Good morning," the young woman at the door greeted Jacqueline with a bright smile "My apologies for calling so early but Count Courland sent me to assist Lord Florian." She brushed past Jacqueline easily, then turned and cut off the woman's protest by holding out her hand. "I'm Laila, Count Courland's valet. If you'd show me the kitchen?"

"Jacqueline, the housekeeper," the woman responded automatically, while struggling to catch up to the petite whirlwind who'd arrived on the doorstep just after six in the morning. With her dark, close-cropped hair, olive skin and astonishing clothing - she was wearing trousers! - the Rochefort's loyal servant was feeling overwhelmed. The feeling only increased as she hurried after Laila to the kitchen where the woman boldly unlocked the door and allowed a stream of people to enter.

"No, you can't! Jacqueline tried to protest as boxes and baskets of foodstuffs and other items were carried into the room. Jacqueline hadn't even begun breakfast preparations and now this! She caught Laila's arm. "I must protest. Who are these people? What are they doing?"

"Count Courland sent along some of his staff. They'll take care of meal preparation and other matters while you tend to her Ladyship. Lord Florian's expected for dinner at eight so there's not much time."

"Expected at eight where? Who is this Count Courland?" Jacqueline was practically in tears by now. She'd come downstairs at five as usual only to find Lady Rochefort, red-eyed and pale, sitting just where Jacqueline had left her the night before. Jacqueline had guided her to her bedroom and helped her dress for bed, but the Lady had been incoherent, mumbling things that made no sense. If Jacqueline didn't know better, she'd think her Ladyship had been at the bottle. The matter had thrown off her whole routine and now this! "I won't move from this spot until you explain, she declared, crossing her arms for emphasis.

"Of course," Laila soothed before calling over her shoulder, "Pierre, some tea if you please." She turned her attention back to Jacqueline and managed to guide her to the corner, away from the swarm of workers.

"I should have realized you haven't had time to speak to your Lady." Laila patter her arm. "It happened last night so everything is moving quickly. My master, Count Courland has requested that Lord Florian stay with him. He's arranged some tokens of appreciation and one of them is the loan of his staff for the day."

Jacqueline look at her kitchen and almost wailed in distress; she was the last remaining servant in the Rochefort household and the kitchen was her domain. She couldn't bear to see others in her place, preparing what appeared to be a lavish breakfast.

"Your tea," Pierre delivered a tray with the tea and a selection of pastries that looked too fine to eat.

"Is there somewhere else we could..." Laila suggested, taking the tray and pushing it toward the door to the dining room. 

"Not there!" Jacqueline protested but Laila kept moving and Jacqueline felt compelled to follow her. They'd taken a seat at the large table and Laila was pouring the tea when Florian arrived. There were dark smudges under his eyes and his usual ivory complexion was ashen but he gave both women a warm smile, touching Jacqueline's shoulder lightly to encourage her to remain seated before giving Laila a half-bow.

"Florian Rochefort at your service, mademoiselle."

"I'm Laila, your Grace. Lord Courland sent me to assist you today." Laila stood to greet Florian, returning his half-bow with one of her own. She returned to her seat at his gesture.

"Your master is very kind. I look forward to meeting him this evening." He looked around for a moment, as if he had forgotten something.

"Breakfast will be ready soon. Would you join us for tea?" Laila took another cup and saucer from the tray and poured, adding sugar without being asked. She slid the cup towards the chair opposite hers and set the platter of pastries within easy reach.

"I've started to pack," Florian admitted, waiting for the women to select their treats before taking one for himself. He took a bite with an air of distraction before coming back to himself and admitting. "I'll be glad for your assistance."

"Florian?" Helene Rochefort's panicked call brought both Florian and Jacqueline to their feet. With the briefest of nods at the ladies, Florian hurried out of the room. Jacqueline moved to follow but Laila stopped her.

"Give them a moment. You can show me where the china and silver are kept." Laila gulped down the last of her tea and motioned for Jacqueline to do the same. They cleared their dishes but left the platter of pastries and the teapot. 

The activity in the kitchen provided enough distraction to keep Jacqueline busy while Laila slipped away. She navigated the rooms cautiously, stopping just outside the parlor where Florian was comforting his mother. She leaned against the wall and thought about her master. She never would have left him alone for an entire day if it weren't for that damned curse. She knew almost nothing about the Rocheforts but she was pinning all her hopes on Florian. Spirits help them all if he failed.

+++++


	3. Chapter 3

At four, Florian and his mother took tea in her morning room. It was a cozy space with a lovely view of Helene's rose garden. She and Florian had spent many hours reading, talking, or listening to music here. 

"This room has seen quite a few adventures," Helene said as she ran her hand over the small nick in the arm of her chair. Memories of young Florian's phase as an explorer, wandering the house late at night and scaling the furniture, still made her smile.

"I wasn't a very good explorer, was I?" Florian asked as he set his hand beside hers on the chair. The day had been filled with people taking Florian's measurements and asking questions about the kind of colors and fabrics he preferred. There would be a whole new wardrobe delivered to his new address along with hats, shoes and every kind of necessity he could imagine. 

Even more unexpected was the arrival of vans loaded with furniture, paintings and other belongings that Helene had been forced to sell. Not everything was returned, but it was far more than she or Florian ever hoped for. 

Laila and Jacqueline had kept them well supplied with food and drink long after the chef and his workers had left. The chef had asked Florian for his favorite foods and if he had any dislikes or sensitivities. He'd taken his leave after promising an evening meal that was sure to delight. 

Full from the elaborate breakfast - in which he'd skimped on the eggs and meat in favor of pastries - Florian couldn't imagine eating another large meal in a few hours, but he was looking forward to the promised dessert. He didn't know what awaited him that evening, but the return of their furnishings and and his mother's reaction, meant more to him than the promise of fine food and clothing.

"My precious Florian." Helene pressed her hand to Florian's face, studying his face as if memorizing it. "Off to explore again." She leaned in and kissed his cheek lightly, inhaling sharply as she drew back. There was a glimmer of tears in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. Florian had seen more than enough of her grief through the years. She would not burden him with it again, not when he was leaving in a few hours.

"Would you dance with me, mother?" Florian rose and held out his hand to her. She took it gladly, the mood growing lighter as he escorted her to the old music box. It was one of the possessions she'd clung too, even when she'd sold many others. The old thing held too many memories for her to let it go.

"Remember this one?" Florian asked with a bright smile as the too-familiar tune started to play. Helene just shook her head and took the hand she was offered. When he was eight, Florian had heard this song at a dance. He'd begged her for the disk for weeks until she'd finally given in. She regretted it for months afterwards when it seemed as if Florian played it constantly. To this day she'd find herself humming the tune at random times, and she didn't even like it all that much.

Dancing to it now, she could let herself forget that she was about to lose her most precious treasure. Florian had grown into a fine young man, but he'd never stop being the boy who'd twirled her around the room, eager and laughing, but always so careful of her. She'd tried her best to return that care but knew in her heart that she'd failed. Please, she thought as Florian guided her easily through the dance, may his new benefactor be worthy of him and show him better care than she'd managed.

The music ended but Florian held on, dancing his mother around in a silly circle, laughing and bright-eyed. He was doing his best to leave her laughing so she put on her best smile and followed his lead.

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End file.
